Tales of magic: grimoire of transmogrification

  Chapter 40

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  Arc 2 – “The hunter and the beast”

  Chapter 24- “Approaching dawn II”

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  Was there ever a choice? Or a reason? A reason that explains this, accounting for everything without any contradictory elements? Why did it happen? How did it become like this? Questions that deserve answers are left without them......Even now, in our relentless search for the truth, we are left with nothing but lies~ Philosopher. Making sense of the world and magic. His second work, released right after the first one- Descent into insanity.

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  “Margaret... Welcome home.”

  It was a human voice. A man’s voice. It was far removed from the roar she heard only a few minutes ago. She was struggling to reconcile the two as the same person.

  But it had to be.

  He was close enough for her to smell him. It was horrible, enduring moment after moment of that stench.

  He was taller than she’d remembered. She’d always thought he’d seem shorter- since she’s grown. But as it seems, he had grown quite tall too.

  Blue eyes. Those were new.

  So were the fangs. His skin was clear and smooth. Black.

  But his clothes were the biggest difference. He currently wore a fancy shirt and trousers resembling that of an aristocrat. The grace with wish he carried himself- even when he was standing still- couldn’t be seen in a commoner.

  She knew she was just distracting herself. She told herself not to run away, yet...

  Margaret stood there, right in front of him, and turned her face away. Her peripheral vision caught him. Her ears told her he was walking forward. Towards her.

  The lady was suddenly gripped with dread. His towering figure loomed over her, casting a shadow on her. His arms were spread wide, around her.

  She took a step back hastily.

  “I was trying to hug you, not crush you.”

  “I realise that.”

  Lycan sighed shaking his head.

  “I can practically taste your fear.”

  “And yet I’m still here.”

  The man suddenly wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. She was startled at first, but returned the hug eventually. As she did so, Margaret felt liquid running down from her eyes. Tears? Why?

  They remained like that for a few moments.

  “You stink.”

  “So do you. Blood and guts. Fresh.”

  They broke the hug. Margaret took two steps back this time. Lycan shrugged.

  “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

  Margaret turned her head towards the woods behind her, and then the general direction of Weidson.

  ‘What am I doing?’

  She hurriedly wiped her tears and met Lycan’s gaze.

  “Please... Call your monsters back. The people are...”

  “Probably already dead. I can’t sense that far ahead- my territory is where my dominance ends- but I know. It’s been a while since I sent them, though. Would you believe it if I told you they should’ve been done half an hour ago?”

  “But..”

  Lycan raised his hand, and Margaret kept quiet. He lowered his hand slowly. His eyes were different somehow. The tenderness in them was almost entirely gone.

  “This is it, right? The only reason you saw it fit to see me.”

  “No.”

  Don’t lie to me.

  His voice was suddenly different. More aggressive. More monstrous. It was also eerily well-rounded. Each word was heard loud and clear as though he was standing at her ear. At both of her ears.

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  “I...I don’t know what to say.”

  “Leave.” Human voice again.

  “I... Why? Why do you do it? Why do those people have to die?”

  “People? You killed people on your way here, didn’t you? Of course, they are of a different species, and they happen to have varying levels of sentience; but don’t they count as people?”

  “You know what I mean. They didn’t do anything to you. And even of they did, you don’t have the right to kill them.”

  “True.”

  Margaret shook her head. The conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

  “What do you gain from all of this?”

  He only smiled as a response. She frowned.

  Margaret noticed him walking away from her, towards the trees around them.

  Lycan made the shape of a blade with his hand- without actually transforming- and struck a nearby tree with minimum effort. The bark was sliced in two. The wood crashed against the ground violently, leaving behind a stump high enough to serve as a chair.

  The man did the same to another tree. He didn’t waste any time in making one of the stumps his seat.

  He gestured for her to join him. She did. But she didn’t sit.

  “You asked about what I’d gain from this? I’ll give you the answer. Power. A great measure of it. You see, the werewolves usually have pacts with their pack, allowing the alpha to obtain a bit more power for each successful kill from one of his underlings. I just made the exact same pact with a much bigger pack- one consisting of more than just Wolves. Each human my army kills relinquishes a part of their soul through their blood and flesh and that...”

  “...is converted into Power. I get it. I’m not some toddler. What I don’t get is why you’re doing this. Why do you need so much power? Is it worth more than the people you kill for it?”

  “Is there a point to any of your questions?”

  Margaret opened her mouth, but closed it without saying anything.

  “Go on!” He yelled at her.

  ‘No scary voice this time. Huh..’

  “I...”

  “You want me to stop killing.”

  ‘Not exactly. But, close enough.’

  She nodded slowly.

  He turned away from her again. This time he stared at the black moon.

  “Leave.” His voice was soft, but it was still a bit harsh.

  “I’m sorry, I..”

  Leave.

  Margaret stared at his back for a moment.

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  A distant memory crept it’s way back into her mind.

  Back then, he was also staring at the moon. The regular moon.

  It was night time. The full moon was out, and there were so many stars. She was sitting on his shoulder, with a frown on her face.

  “The sky’s boring. It’s just the same thing, over and over again.”

  “It’s not boring. Look, the moon’s different today.”

  “You’re right. But it’s still boring. Tell me a story, okay?”

  “A story?”

  “Yes, daddy. A story.”

  “I don’t really have anything to tell you. I’m a boring man.”

  “Please..” She drew out the word.

  “Alright. But you have to agree with me. The sky isn’t nearly as boring as you say. Because beyond what we can see, lies a world bigger than we could ever imagine. But more importantly, since when did the sky being boring ever become a problem?”

  “You’re being mean again.”

  “...I mean, the sky is beautiful. And it’s peaceful. What more could anyone want? I think, the sky is perfect, just as it is now.”

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  Her head throbbed, noticing the striking difference between the two skies. She felt like vomiting again, but she held it in.

  “I didn’t want it to be like this. I didn’t come here to force you to stop.”

  “Then why? What are you doing here, Margaret?”

  “I’m here to see you. And I promised myself that I won’t run away.”

  “Facing your fears. Honourable. Just how I raised you.” The softness was back.

  ‘You barely raised me.’

  Margaret forced a smile.

  “Just how I would’ve raised you. If this didn’t happen.”

  Lycan got up from his makeshift bench and stretched his legs a bit.

  “I’m sorry.” Margaret said out of the blue.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I said I’m sorry. For leaving you alone. Maybe if I hadn’t...”

  “Don’t say that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what made sense. I was the one who turned into a monster, not you. You’re human. It’s only natural to run away from things like me.”

  “And you kept on trying to find me.”

  “Because I never stopped being your dad. I never stopped loving you. But how do you know that? I thought I was stealthy these past few years.”

  “Come on, dad. You’re a werewolf. You can’t be stealthy.”

  “And you’re a Mage.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “Can you see this? It’s the gift you gave me for the last birthday I had. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of it.” She showed him the small clock.

  Mr. Meredith frowned.

  “I’m glad you did. Though if you think that would change my mind somehow you’re mistaken. You are a Mage, Margaret. So you should understand what I’m doing.”

  “Yes, I have magical powers. But I’m not heartless.”

  “And I am.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Margaret bit her lip.

  ‘I have no choice.’

  “Dad, I’m really sorry.”

  “You already said that.” He smiled. The smile was familiar this time. It was the exact same smile he wore when he gazed at the moon years ago. The same face he had whenever he was with her mother. The same face he had when he bit that guy’s head off.

  “No. I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

  Margaret wasted no time in activating her instrument. It glowed softly. Green.

  “Goodbye.” She cried. A single tear escaped one of her tired eyes.

  Lycan jumped backwards. A mark appeared on his shirt. It was torn open, exposing his toned muscles.

  Don’t you dare.

  The man stared at her for a few moments, with disappointment written all over his face. Without warning, he transformed. His flesh expanded and changed. In less than a second, he was no longer resembling a human being.

  In his transformed state, he looked like a gigantic wolf. A twelve foot tall monstrosity on four limbs.

  Suddenly, one of his hands(or forelimbs) fell out of the rest of his body. A clean cut. Blood spattered all over the ground. He nearly collapsed.

  The severed hand shrivelled up and turned into a bunch of bones.

  Margaret wasn’t holding a timepiece anymore. Instead, she had a longsword blade extending out from what should be the clock with a chain sticking out. There was a handle too, sticking out of the other end. Both of her hands were on the handle, supporting the sword’s weight.

  You wanted this, didn’t you? Or was this William’s idea?

  He didn’t sound angry. Only hurt. Sad. Margaret fought the urge to cry.

  She gripped on the sword and hardened her expression. She had a job to do.

  Why didn’t you go for the head?

  Margaret didn’t answer. Instead, she swung the blade again. This time, her attack didn’t land.

  Lycan disappeared from her field of vision. She frantically looked around, trying to catch him before he struck. She couldn’t.

  Instead, she felt an explosive force smash against her ribs, knocking the wind out of her and sending her flying. She fell and rolled on the ground a bit, before violently slamming against a tree.

  She tasted iron in her mouth, but she didn’t have a second to waste.

  He had to be stopped.